Along for the Ride
by Paladin of Farore
Summary: *Left Behind spoilers* It was the placement of the bite that saved Riley, that and the swing of an ax. In a sudden twist of fate, both girls had survived being bitten. One via amputation, the other through a miraculous genetic immunity. Now, the two friends find themselves travelling beside a grizzled man with a broken heart, and braving the wild remains of America together.
1. Chapter 1

**Contains spoilers for Left Behind. You have been warned. **

Riley's thoughts were a muddled haze as she sat half dead against the wall.

She could hear the adults talking in the next room, arguing and shouting occasionally intercut by the sound of Marlene's hard, business-like tone. There was a soft strain to the Firefly Queen's tone caught halfway between hope and disbelief. Her followers sounded much harsher, cynically calling for what had always been the obvious solution to their current problem.

A bullet to the brain.

Riley didn't hear much of this though. Her attention was shifting back and forth on and endless loop, between the tingling pain that still shot through her after nearly three days, and the other girl locked away in the next room.

She looked down at the stump that had replaced her hand. Thick gauze wrap had been applied and sewn into place, dyed red brown by blood and bodily fluids. Echoes of pain shot across fingertips that weren't there anymore. Feelings of phantom movement, flexing and un-flexing, the clenching of a fist. All that was still there, even though her favored arm had been sheared several inches shorter by the swift swing of a fireman's axe.

It was funny in the most horrible way possible.

Were it not for the fact that she could see the hand was missing, had she not felt it come off, she probably wouldn't have been able to tell the difference.

She shook her head.

It had been necessary, and dwelling on it now wouldn't do any good.

Looking up, Riley glanced the ten yards down the hall to faded yellow door sealed with a heavy padlock, with an armed Firefly seated on a nearby stool.

"Ellie, " she whispered.

All of this was her fault, of course. It had been her who had led the younger girl into that mall in an attempt to make up for being such a bitch in walking out like she had. What had made her leave, anyway? Had it been the confusing cloud of emotions that had filled her stomach like a swarm of vengeful butterflies, tearing her between her wish to fight against the military and what she felt for her best friend?

Whatever it had been, it had hardly mattered.

Their first day together in forty-six days had been the best. Better than the best even. Filled with laughter, corny-ass-jokes and exploring, arcades and waterguns and table dancing.

And it had all ended with something that had made whatever promises she'd made to the Fireflies completely meaningless.

"_Don't go."_

A wonderful tingle passed over chapped lips.

Like Ellie she had spent days locked away while they waited to see if the impromptu amputation their rescuer had employed would be successful.

"You got about a twenty-five percent chance," Marlene had told her as she led her into the cell-like room, formerly a broom closet. Her words were blunt, but there was regret in them as well. Losing recruits so young was always hard. "I've seen cutting fail more than succeed, but considering how fast it came off, you might get lucky."

Lucky, that was a great word for it.

"And Ellie?" she asked.

Marlene's face fell, and her eyes slammed shut, making darker the heavy bags that hung beneath her eyes. Guilt as deep as her own showed in that expression, guilt at the failure to protect someone she'd kept watch over for fourteen years, and guilt at failing to keep a promise to a dear friend.

"Were gonna wait it out….it won't be long now but until then…." She gave the tiniest of shudders. "Until then we can at least make her comfortable. And no-" she nearly snapped, stopping Riley's question dead before it reached her lips. "You can't wait with her. If taking your hand worked, then it's too risky you'll get re-infected whe-when the time comes."

With that, she'd left the room and sealed it behind her.

Days had passed, and before long they'd released her. Not that that did anything to relief the hollow pit consuming her gut. So what if she wasn't going to die? Her best friend, who might've been so much more, was slowly being consumed by fungus from within, and would die before long at all.

Except she didn't.

More than three days had passed, and each time one of the guards peeked in to observe, they reported none of the usual signs. No redness of the face or porous based bleeding. No crazed eyes and perfuse sweating. Nothing at all.

On the evening of the second day Marlene had entered the room armed with a pistol and a syringe, emerging minutes later with a filled vial of blood.

That had been hours ago, and here Riley was in the hallway, forbidden to go to Ellie, and not allowed in the meeting with the senior Fireflies. Apparently the tags in her pocket didn't mean much when it came down to it. Initiated or not, she wasn't really one of them. Which was all well and good, because she didn't really want to be anymore.

Wasn't worth it.

"Looks like you got lucky, kid."

The sudden voice to her right made her jump, head banging against the wall behind her with a thump. Eyes darting, she swiveled round to see the newcomer.

"Clementine," she breathed, recognizing her rescuer. Clementine smiled a bit, a twinge at the edge of her lips.

She was a lean woman carved from wiry sinew and muscle. Like Riley, she was black, though light enough skinned that at long distance one may not be able to tell. Short frizzy hair sat beneath a decrepit looking ballcap adorned with the letter D, and a spattering of old blood staining one side.

Unlike the first time Riley had seen her, she had no weapons. Before she had been decked out in assortment of guns, hidden knives, and the fire axe she'd used to cleave off the teenagers bitten hand. Now, she had apparently been stripped of them courtesy of Firefly security policies

"So it worked," the woman slid down to sit beside her along the wall. "Good. A friend of mind tried it once, but it didn't exactly work out. Doing alright?"

Riley shrugged, lifted her stump for further examination. The bandages would have to be changed again before too long. Dark blood had started to crust the surface of the material, and it gave off a light stench.

"Eh. I can still feel it sometimes. They told me that might happen. Phantom pain, or some shit like that." She shook her head. "Guess all I need now is a hook and I'm set, huh?"

Clementine snorted, clapping her on the shoulder.

"That's the spirit, kid. Trust me, could've been a lot worse. Any further along the arm, and the whole arm would've had to go. You wouldn't have survived the blood loss from that."

Riley nodded. Normally, she'd've spouted at least half a dozen witticisms, but not now. She was way too tired, and thoughts of Ellie's impending doom pushed nearly all the humor out of her head. Humor wasn't so fun without a partner to bounce it off after all. Could she, she'd have traded her survivable bite for the forearm death sentence Ellie had received.

"Thanks, Clementine…..wait, I thought you said you were leaving."

After taking her hand off, she'd made it clear that she intended to go off on her own once she'd delivered them to Marlene. Apparently she and the Firefly queen didn't get a long so well, though well enough that she felt the need to follow up on a promised favor.

The favor? Track Ellie down after her disappearance from school. She'd done it, and had been exactly a minute too late.

"I was going to. But Marlene asked me to stay, and considering what's going on, I thought it best to agree."

Riley arched a brow.

"Then why aren't you in there?" she jabbed the thumb of her remaining hand at the door to the command center. Clementine laughed.

"Ex Fireflies aren't exactly welcome at strategic meetings, kid. See the two guys on the stairs over there? They're the handlers Marlene assigned me to make sure I didn't wander off."

The girl's brows shot above her hairline.

"You were a Firefly?" she asked in a whisper. The woman nodded.

"I was. Years ago. Joined up at about your age, back when things were just starting up."

The most obvious question Riley could ask was 'why did you leave?' Instead, she asked.

"Marlene let you just walk away? Bullshit." her tone was incredulous. "I know Marlene, and she never lets people who've been on the inside just up and leave."

For a moment Clementine regarded her perplexedly, before throwing her head back in a raucous laugh.

"First off, no, you don't know Marlene. Not like I do. All you've seen is the fearless revolutionary, the public face to make kids like you think they can be part of something big and important and then sends them off to die in her little war. Did that pendant she gave you protect you from runners?" Her tone turned bitter, memories flashing in her irises. "You haven't really met her. And if you did, you wouldn't like it. Two, she didn't stop me because she knew it was pointless to stop me. I'm not the only one who left either, a friend and I left together."

Inhaling deeply, she rolled forward to crouch on the balls of her feet, stretching her neck with a crack.

"Besides, I don't have to be in the meeting. If I didn't know what was going on, I would've left already."

Riley leaned forward, eyes widening. Suddenly she was back in the early days of boarding school, begging for scraps of information from the older kids about how to nab the best clothes or which soldiers had the softest personalities. She hated feeling so helplessly young and useless, but she was desperate to know anything at all.

"Can…can you tell me anything?"

To her surprise, Clementine smiled. Not a smirk or a scowl, but a genuine smile that seared away any trace of bitterness that had been there just a moment before.

"You can stop worrying. Your friend is gonna be fine."

Riley's heart stopped dead. Yet at the same time, it leapt, despite every bit of logic she possessed telling her it was a vain hope.

"What?" she practically squeaked. Clementine licked her lips.

"They ran some tests on her blood. Nothing too serious, they don't have the equipment for it here. But it still means the same thing. Ellie comes out positive under a scanner, but if she was gonna turn, she'd have done it hours ago." Another smile. "Don't you get it kid? Your friend is immune."

**A/N: Before you ask, yes, it is THAT Clementine. I didn't put this in the crossover section because despite including Clementine, this is firmly grounded in the Last of Us universe. **

**The girl's little romance ripped my heart out, and this is my way of putting it back together a little. **

**Happy reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

Something had to be wrong with her.

Ellie sat half cross-legged on the room's narrow bed. Cobwebs were gathering in great bunches in the corners of the ceiling, filled with unseen scuttling bugs. The walls were dank and cracked, the ancient remains of paint of wallpaper chipping away in patches to reveal the plaster beneath.

For the thousandth time she glanced down at her forearm with tired, sleep deprived eyes. She hadn't been sleeping. How could she?

A jagged crescent marked where a runner mouth had made its mark, clearly segmenting the space between rotten, toxic teeth that had pierced her skin. She knew that by now the redness should have spread from the wound, gripping her in a fever that would consume her body in sweat and seizing movement before it took hold of the brain.

Yet for some reason, she hadn't turned yet. Her hips and spine ached with the bruises she'd received tumbling from the scaffolding. Her head ached with fatigue and lack of rest. But nothing else out of the ordinary.

Whatever asshole god existed somewhere above had apparently decided to drag the whole thing out, making her spend her last dreary days in fear and inevitability.

But asshole god or not, for some reason, he had spared Riley. It had cost her a hand, yet according to Marlene during her brief visit the previous day, she lived. She was fine. And that was something she was thankful for beyond all else. The most important person in her world was alive, thanks to the timely intervention of Clementine. For that she'd always be grateful.

A smile crept onto her face, accompanied by a light pink blush.

The trip to the mall had been a flurry of complex emotions. Too complicated for her taste. There was the joy at seeing Riley again after nearly a month and a half, the anger at her bitch-style abandonment, and the fear of rejection that fluttered beside the butterflies in her stomach.

"_I'm sorry," _she'd breathed with a nervous smile.

"_For what?" _had been the glorious reply. Riley hadn't pushed her way. After the countless nightmares recounting their parting months ago as a brutal rejection, leaving her alone forever, had been proven wrong with just two syllables. They would figure it out, Riley had said with a smile that matched her own in terms of nerves and excitement.

And for that brief moment, they thought all they'd have to contend with was Marlene. There was no way in hell she'd go for it.

Hindsight is a fucking cunt.

Now if only the infection would hurry the fuck up and relieve her of fear and guilt.

She jumped at the sound of the padlock releasing with a click. The door creaked open and Marlene stepped in. Like the last time she visited she carried a pistol, but this time it was lowered at her side. Her face was an unreadable mask of emotions. Or the lack thereof, sometimes it was hard to tell with her.

The woman heaved a sigh, and stepped aside.

Riley.

Her stump of a left hand had been heavily bandaged with clean white gauze. The dirt that had streaked her face had been washed away, though her hair was a frizzy mess when not tied back. Either way, she was the most beautiful thing she'd seen in a good while. Maybe ever.

"Hey," Riley said.

"Hey," Ellie said back. Both of them smiled.

When Riley took a timid step forward, Ellie found herself scrambling backwards on the bed until her back was to the wall.

"What are you doing?" she snapped almost desperately. A hand flew to her bite. "I could turn any-"

"It's alright," Marlene interjected wearily. The gun in her hand was placed back in its holster. "If you were going to turn, you'd have done it a long time ago. Get up. We need to have a talk."

Ellie hesitated. What the hell was there to talk about? You got bit, and you turned unless the infected area was severed within about three minutes. So, now they were letting her out? Were they insane? Delayed reaction or not, at any moment she could become a craven, cannibalistic monster. She wouldn't **not **be responsible for killing anyone if she could help it.

"It's okay," said Riley.

Their eyes met. There was so much talking they wanted to do in that moment, but Marlene's presence made that all but impossible. Maybe they could talk later….if there was a later. But in that moment, the expression on her best friend's face was enough to convince her to slip off the bed, and walk towards the door.

As they passed through the door, the two girl's hands brushed together. Both blushed.

Just a little. Marlene noticed of course, but made no comment. This wasn't the time.

When Ellie'd been led into the Firefly base the first time she'd had had little time to take it in before being shoved into a holding cell to wait for death. Faded insignia's on the walls and desks told her that at one point the building had been one of Boston's police stations. Mold destroyed carpeting lined the floor's and the few remaining artifacts of the place's former function had been cleared out by the new occupants.

Speaking of which-

"Where is everyone?" Ellie asked as they approached the double doors into the central meeting room. Even locked in a cage she'd been able to hear constant activity. People coming and leaving, heated arguing, and the hauling of equipment in through the iron plated backdoor.

"Gone," Marlene answered without looking back. "They have assignments, and we'll need privacy for this."

Before either girl could ask precisely what 'this' entailed, the doors had been opened and they'd passed through.

The command center was the very definition of the word clutter. Chairs stood in haphazard groupings around the room, some having fallen on their sides as people rose from them. Pictures of known military officials were pinned to the walls, with red string running between them to indicate connections and the chain of command.

At the back of the room stood gun racks beside heavy, unopened crates of various firearms and ammunition. It was an enormous shipment, taking up nearly a quarter of the chamber with sheer bulk.

Maps were strewn across the round central table, where the room's only occupant was seated. She sat aloof, feet up on the table.

"Clementine?" Ellie said, puzzled at the woman's presence. "You're still here?"

Clementine laughed.

"Riley here asked me the same thing." She lowered her feet to the ground. "Is it really that weird that I didn't just ditch as soon as I got the job done?"

The girls exchanged a look.

"Kinda," Riley admitted. "Most Fireflies we've met usually just show up, do some shit, then leave."

Again, Clementine laughed.

"Good thing I'm not a Firefly then." She paused and looked to Ellie. "Good to see you're feeling alright, kid."

The comment was well meaning and genuine. But that subtle reminder of her condition sent ice flooding into the teens veins. What the fuck was she doing out in the open, bantering like nothing had gone wrong at all?  
Ignoring the small talk, Marlene strode over to the makeshift counter formed by overturned filing cabinets. There sat a microscope, an empty blood vial, and a carefully printed sheaf of paper.

"Come here," she commanded in her Firefly voice. Ellie complied at once, Riley right beside her.

"These are some preliminary blood tests we've run," Marlene said without any further preamble. She pointed to some graphs and character charts that meant literally zero to the girls who'd had their entire education from a military funded institution dedicated mostly to basic training and propaganda. "It's not much, we don't have the medical equipment to do anything more, but for now it's enough." She paused, sighing like a drag on a heavy cigar.

"Bite victims turn within forty-eight hours. That's' how it works. But you, Ellie, you're different. Your genes or….something inside you, makes you different. You're-"

"You're immune," Riley finished for her, face shining with optimism so bright the sun was dim by comparison.

Ellie just stared, dumbfounded.

"Don't interrupt me," Marlene grumbled at Riley, though she was smiling. "But yes, that's what I was getting at. You're immune, Ellie."

For a second her jaw flapped uselessly, words lost, until finally the fourteen year old managed a reply.

"How?" Marlene shrugged.

"I have no idea. Like I said, we don't have the specialized equipment here to find out. But…do you realize what this means?" She leaned forward in her stance, expression so earnest that it was hard to believe that this was the same woman who led a debataby vicious resistance group. "Ellie, you're the key to something that humanity's been looking for since the beginning."

"A cure," Clementine finished from the table. Marlene nodded.

This was the second time in the last sixty seconds Ellie had found herself rendered silent. Her gaze fell to the stump of Riley's arm, then to mark on her forearm. Images of snarling Infected flashed across her mind like the snapshots in the photobooth. Enormous, yellow green fungus sprouting from the walls and creeping its way across humankinds long forgotten relics.

She thought of the people of the QZ being torn into the street and forced to their knees as soldiers tested them to live or die.

Find your purpose, and fight for it, her mother had written.

Maybe, just maybe, she could put an end to twenty year cycle.

"What can I do?" she found herself asking.

"Nothing from here," Marlene stalked to the table and pulled over a blank map of the United States. Bases weren't marked of course, that was just terrible strategy when considering the ever present possibility of a raid. Rather, locations of encampments were from memory alone, and only the Firefly queen herself knew them all.

"We have a research facility, way out west in Colorado…." She hesitated. "I'd take you there myself, but I need to hold down the fort here. There's too much going on."

"And," Clementine interjected, standing, "this is where I come in, isn't it?"

Another nod.

"You'll get it done, get her there safe, and faster than one of my own ever could. That's part of why I sent everyone away for this meeting. They'd never let me live down giving a job like this to an outsider, let alone two of them."

"Two?" Clementine paused. "You're hiring Texas, too, aren't you?"

Marlene smirked.

"How'd you guess?"

"He's the best at what he does," Clementine reasoned. "There's no better smuggler on this coast. But do you really think it's a good idea? I heard what happened the other day with Robert and his warehouse."

"Joel'll be fine. He and Tess always knew the risks. It was only a matter of time before one of 'em got bit, and it just happened to be her. It'll probably help him to get out of town on a job, get his mind off things."

"Fair enough." Folding her arms, Clementine paced a few steps along the floor, casually kicking over a stack of half decayed phone-books. "Here's the real question though. What's in it for me? We go back a long time Marlene, but I'm not doing this for nothing. Even for Anna's little girl."

Anna? Ellie's heart stopped and started again. Clementine had known her mother? The thousand questions that sparked in her mind were squelched by the continued conversation.

"I'm paying Texas with those," Marlene a finger at the arsenal of weaponry in the corner. "Name your price, I'll meet it."

A long silence passed as Clementine's pacing continued, thinking it over.

"Two things," she said after a while. "One, I want one of the briefcases I saw your boys put in the basement. I'm one of maybe six people in the city who knows how to use it properly."

"Fine," Marlene agreed. "You'll have to leave it here, though. There's no way to carry it that long distance." Clementine tapped the bill of her cap.

"There is if you know which parts to take off. Okay, two." To the shock of everyone present, she pointed to Riley. "That one comes with me."

Though why she'd ask such a thing baffled both, the two girls were elated. Somehow, their inevitable separation by the Fireflies had been averted by a woman who they barely knew. Or, maybe not-

"Absolutely not," Marlene snapped, fist clenched. "She'd just be a distraction, and you know how close they are to wiping us out. I need everyone I can get."

"And how useful would a fifteen year old amputee be to you?" Clem shot back. "Not much. No offense kid. She'll be worth a thousand times more helpful after she's spent some time with me, you know that. I can teach her things. How to get around her disability."

"Why, though?" Marlene asked. The two women's faces were locked together. These were people who knew each other astonishingly well, yet that wasn't necessarily a good thing. There was a mutual respect that they showed each other, overshadowed by a deep resentment. "Why make yourself look after two kids instead of one?"

Clementine shrugged, then grinned.

"First, it won't be just me if Texas is coming too. Second, I like her. She's got spunk, both of them do. And maybe I want some more company who isn't Mr. stoic, grizzled, and bloodthirsty."

An eye to eye standoff went on for half a minute more, both daring the other to give in to some invisible game of tug-of-war taking place between pupils. Finally, Marlene relented.

"Deal." She turned and made for the doors. "Ellie, Riley, wait here. I need to give Clementine her payment. We'll be right back."

"Don't get too comfy, ladies," Clementine told them as she exited. "We have a road trip to plan for."

Suddenly, the two girls were left alone.

A picosecond later, they were embracing, half formed tears falling down their cheeks.

They pulled away far enough so that they were face the face, arms wrapped tight around the other.

"Hey," Riley said again, smiling wetly.

"Hey," Ellie said back. "So, road trip huh?"

"Yeah, guess we might go surfing after all."

They shared a cracked, relieved laugh. It was pointless to mention that Colorado wasn't anywhere near California. A wealth of unspoken communication passed between the pair. Unspoken thanks to god, or maybe Clementine, that the two of them were staying together despite everything that seemed determined to tear them away from each other.

Somehow, without leaving their embrace, they ended up seated at one of the large chairs. Ellie squeaked when Riley pulled her onto her lap, arm fastening tightly around her waist. Warm cheeks pressed pleasantly together. Slowly, wet tears trailing drown the older girl's features.

"I'm so, so sorry," she half choked. "It's my fault."

"Stop," Ellie told her. A gentle finger wiped at the tears. "Until that last part, it was the best day ever."

It sounded cheesy, yet it was entirely true. For both of them.

Riley raised her stump between them. Clementine's salvation was ugly and terrible even as it allowed to go on living.

"Well this fuckin' sucks," she said, phantom pain sprinkling it's way across her brain. In her mind, she brushed the red-brown locks off a pale forehead. Good god, they were getting soft.

"Nah," Ellie said, hand against her cheek, the other in hair. "All you need's a hook, and bam, instant badass."

Their second kiss was everything the first one was. This time though, there was no uncertainty.

Lips pressed together, there was little time to discuss the impending trek across a dead country. But hey, they'd figure it out.


	3. Chapter 3

When Clementine mentioned road trip preparations, Riley hadn't exactly expected this.

She stood in the center of a dank, musty room that could only be described as junk storage. Shelves of miscellaneous crap lines the short walls, machine parts and bits of old plastics, books long ago torn free from their covers and enough chipping pipes to maintain a reasonable internal plumbing system.

Apart from a faded old bra, she was bare from the waist up. Her skin was flushed and red from the impromptu make out session not five minutes passed, and it didn't help that the session's other participant was standing just a few yards away, blushing in equal measure.

It made no sense to be embarrassed. They'd seen each other in all states of undress. Then again, things had changed recently. There'd been no time for a serious talk about where they stood with each other apart from the brief "thank god your alive" bout of hugs and kisses, but the quiet smiles and low laughs they were sharing back and forth were any indication, they would be just fine, albeit with a new arrangement.

Suddenly it was like they were back in military school, sneaking into one another's rooms and falling asleep curled up together on the bed listening to music. That physical intimacy had brought on a toxic mix of happiness, fear and uncertainty that in hindsight seemed….just silly.

In her mind, it had been a roadblock to her dreams of revolution, of joining the Fireflies and fighting back. So she lashed out…it had cost her a hand to make up for that mistake.

All that was needed now was some more time alone. For talking things out, for kissing, for whatever. Whatever it was, they'd do it together. Whether it be a talk, or a cross country road trip dropped in their laps completely out of the blue.

Clementine knelt beside her, fiddling with a tangled series of Velcro straps that had come from a heavily worn rucksack on one of the shelves.

"Take off your shirt," was all that she'd said since leading them down here. After babbling nonsensically for a moment at the odd request, she'd obeyed.

Long moments passed in silence as the woman worked, metal clinking with the shifting of buckles.

A sharp intake of breath sounded. Riley looked up, and smirked.

"Still can't whistle, huh?" Ellie glared.

"No," another intake of air that sounded less like a whistle, and more like a dying pair of bagpipes. "Damn it!"

Both girls laughed, and Clementine shook her head, smiling. Another series of half formed whistling attempts went off in quick succession, never amounting to more than a few squeaks trying to form the rhythm of a song.

"Can't whistle, and still have shit taste in music," Riley smirked.

"Fuck you!" the other girl shot back.

"You two have a sense of humor," Clementine commented. The metallic click of buckles slapping together punctuated her sentence. "That's good. Last few people I went long distance with had sticks so far up their asses they came up the back of their throats. Gotta keep things light sometimes when your outside the QZ."

Ellie paused, hesitating for a moment. She glanced up at Riley, then back at the older woman. The question as burning at the tip of her tongue. 'Ask her' Riley mouthed, seeing her plight, giving a much needed final push.

"Clementine, can I , uh….ask you something?"

"Sure. If I can you questions too. May as well get to know each other."

"Did….did you know my mom? I heard you mention Anna upstairs."

"Yeah, I did." There was an extended pause as she laid out the Velcro on the floor in organized lines. She stood up, looking the girl in the face. "A long time ago, when I was still with the Fireflies."

"You were a Firefly?" Ellie asked incredulously. A brow arched on Clem's forehead, directly at Riley.

"Didn't mention that?"

A shrug rolled across the half naked girl's shoulders.

"Haven't had time to. She just got let outta jail, remember?"

"Fair enough." A tired sigh followed. "Yeah, I knew Anna. We were never as close as she was with Marlene, those two are about a decade a piece older than I am, but we got on fair enough. She was a firecracker, that one. Sarcastic most of time, never backed down from anything once she set her mind to it. Pretty much worthless with a gun, couldn't aim. Didn't matter, though. She was a master with a needle and thread."

Turning ninety degrees, Clementine pulled up her shirt to show a thin, faded line that ran across the backside of her rib cage, just above the small of her back.

"That woman sewed me up more times that I cared to count. Best medic the Flies ever had. I have a habit of getting the crap kicked out me, getting injured or just being unlucky. Last time I saw her, when she worked on this," she indicated the nearly transparent scar, "she punched me in the face. Said 'If the next bullet doesn't kill you, I'll do it myself."

Readjusting her shirt, she settled back down on her knees, fingering a strap. Downcast eyes examined the material.

"Not long after that, I left and started West. Don't ask why, it's too complicated to get into now. Next I heard she'd gotten pregnant. Had a good laugh about that, Anna never seemed like the type who'd want kids. No offense."

"None taken," said Ellie. The semi-crumpled letter in her back pocket had said about the same thing, but in Anna's own words.

"She was a good one, Ellie." The voice was gentle, and only a little bit sad. "You're like her, in a lot of ways. Got the same eyes, same nose. Same stubborn refusal to let go of anything. Freackin' Runner bite couldn't bring you down."

Riley's bark of laughter was complimented Ellie's deadpan reply.

"Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome. Now come give me hand here. Riley, lift your arms up straight."

Riley complied. Gesturing to Ellie pick up the slack, Clementine began weaving the black length taught around Riley's torso. Two whole weaves went around each shoulder before winding back down to the waist where they were secured in partially rusted buckles. The girl tensed beneath the course material. It was itchy, and not too pleasant feeling.

"What's this for, exactly?" That was a question she should have asked twenty minutes ago.

"Mobility. If you're travelling cross country, you have to be able to do two things. Run, and climb. You're fine with the running bit, but without a second hand, there's no way you can navigate rubble or wreckage. That's where this comes in." All the various straps had a common thread in them that met at the base of her left forearm. "Hold these for me, Ellie," Clementine ordered. A thumb pressed itself into place, holding the nylon ends together.

Reaching down, Clementine brought up a vicious looking metal contraption. From the looks of it, it had once been a garden tool. A dual hooked trow. The ends of each metal tine had a slight curve at the end, as well as a purposefully dulled tip. Grinding her teeth, the woman secured the tool into place at the head of Riley's stump hand. One by one the straps were wrapped around the iron base

And as the final strap found it's place, the hooks were firmly in their place.

Eying the contraption with awe, Riley gave an experimental wave of her arm. The newly attached appendage stayed firmly in place. Her useless stump had become a weapon in the span of a few minutes.

"Holy fuckin' shit," said Ellie, just as floored as her friend. "You really are a pirate now!"

"Hell yeah! I could take a Runner right in the eye with this thing!"

"Now all you need's a parrot."

"Fuck the parrot. I already got you to repeat stupid shit people say."

"Again, fuck you."

Clementine chuckled.

"Not quite a pirate, but close. I learned this trick from a guy up in New York State. Lost a hand, and rigged one of these for himself. You wanna see real pirates, just get on the Mississippi river or head into the Louisiana bayou. Ravers, marauders, rapists and killers run the place down there. Get in a boat, and you're open season for them." Her face grew solemn, fun nature draining like water from a pierced cup. "Okay, serious question ladies. And I expect an honest answer."

The girls exchanged a nervous glance. Both nodded.

"When I went into that mall to find you two, I found a stereo going in a department store. Who turned on the music?"

Tepidly, Riley lifted a finger in acknowledgement.

"Rookie mistake, kid. Infected are attracted to sound like moths to a flame. Places like malls always have Infected hidden somewhere, even if the place seems empty. It always happens the same way. Scavengers wander in looking for loot, either get bit or breath in spores, then turn down in the parking garage below. You should've seen it down there. Fungus covered all the walls. Had to replace a filter in my gas mask. Word of advice, always keep it quiet in an enclosed space. Even at the expense of partying. Tempting as it is."

A tiny grin broke through the temporarily gloomy expression.

"Come one then. We gotta get our gear together before we go to meet Texas tonight. Gonna be a huge pain getting around the army checkpoints."

"Who's this Texas guy, anyway?" Ellie asked. She tossed Riley her shirt and helped her shimmy into it one handed.

The trio exited the junk room and reentered the hallway that run beneath the defunct police station. Ceilings were so low at certain points that even the girls had to lower their heads to pass by. Time hadn't been kind to the structurally integrity of the building. Water damage had warped certain walls to the point where bubbles of hardened plaster stuck out effect few yards, and the ceiling curved downward like an upturned archway.

"Joel's his name. He's a smuggler," came Clementine's answer. She ducked her head and turned the group down another hallway towards the lower docking bay where equipment was stored, and shipments of black market supplies were brought in. "A really good one too. He's worked this coast for the better part of the last decade, guns, ammo, meds, whatever pays. Got the nickname cause that's where he's from, Texas."

A ponderous finger scratched at her chin.

"That name never did make sense to me. I'm kind of a smuggler, and they don't call me 'Georgia'. Oh well."

"What's he like?" Riley asked, building on the first question. "Ex-military? Marlene said a lot of smugglers are."

"Nah. Nothing like that. Just a guy who worked his way up the ladder."

"Can he be trusted?" this time is was Ellie who asked. She nearly tripped on a bit of old insulation sticking out of the wall.

"Yeah, I think so. He may be a little on edge right now, his partner Tess died a few days ago. Other than though, should be alright. His brother Tommy, another ex-Firefly, vouched for him. Said if we ever needed a favor, go to him and he can get it done. Only met him in passing a couple times, though we've never been introduced. He's decent enough. Kinda rough around the edges but then who isn't." She looked over her shoulder at them. "Speaking of trust, you two met only me what, three days ago? I'm reliable already?"

"Well, yeah," Ellie said, sounding baffled.

"You saved our asses back there," Riley added. "Why wouldn't we trust you?"

"Heh," Clementine mumbled. "Saved you. Yeah, I guess I did. But Marlene just hired me to drag your asses back into the fire. 'Saving' is kind of a weird word for it. That's part of why I asked you come along, Riley. So that maybe I _could _save you."

The dark skinned girl stopped dead in her tracks. Reaching out with her good hand, she took hold of their guides shoulder.

"Save me?" she demanded angrily. "From what?"

Head tilting to the side, bill of her ballcap bobbing, Clementine answered in a cool tone that seethed with an icy sheen.

"From the Fireflies, from Marlene. Take your pick. I've seen kids like you before, Riley. All sparkly eyed with the idea of joining up. You think you're gonna be one of the heroes, a revolutionary fighting back against tyranny," the mockery shone through every syllable. "The Flies haven't been about that for a long, long time, girl. Nearly as far back as you've been alive. Sure, they started out with good intentions, restore what this country used to be. Sounds great, doesn't it? But do you ever hear about any of that stuff when the Fireflies are mentioned? Ever hear how they fed the needy or made some huge medical breakthrough? No. You hear about bombings and shootings in the streets. You heard about deaths, and pain, and civilians caught in the crossfire."

She shook free of the girls grip, movements sharp and harsh.

"Know what that pendant in your pocket means, little girl? It means you've joined Marlene's little terrorist cell. And I'll be damned if I let her lead another kid to their death in her fucked up little game of chess." Angrily, she turned and stomped the rest of the way to the armory door, nodding to the guard standing watch. "You should be thankful Marlene wouldn't let you in, Ellie. It's not worth it."

For some reason, as Clementine entered the room ahead of them, it clicked in Ellie's mind that this was the first time they'd heard Clementine curse.

Cursing wasn't a big deal. Nowadays it was a vocal tick for most people.

Yet coming from those cracked lips, swears carried so much more weight.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry this took so long guys. Been swamped with school, and couldn't really find much motivation to write. So, belated at it is, here it is.**

The old apartment was drab and dark, and held the scent of mildew.

Time had decayed the once high class leather furniture to a husk of its former luster. The sofa legs had nearly been worn through completely, and the chair by the window was standing lopsided. Streamers of light poured in through the glass, provided only by the streetlamps down on the military occupied street below and the sliver of moon nestled between the stars.

At the room's center, another dull light flashed momentarily.

A puff of cigarette smoke drifted upward to mix with the mildew.

Taking a final drag, the man seated on the sofa stood up, snuffing out the cigarette with the heel of his boots.

It had been years since he'd allowed himself the luxury of smoking. His younger years had been filled with the stuff. Back then, there was nothing better than the smooth taste of tobacco to ease his nerves. And his nerves had always been on edge, he'd been a contractor for god's sake.

But nowadays cigarettes were hard to come by. Not many were made anymore, and the few that were went to higher ranking military officers or the slum lords they elected to rule over districts within the QZ's. Adding in the detrimental effect to the lungs, and smoking just wasn't practical for someone of his profession.

Today though, he needed it. It was all that was keeping his blood from boiling over and detonating beneath his skin.

The sound of a resigned bullet tearing it's way through Tess' skull, ricocheting off the nearby wall as bits of skull fell to the floor. These sounds rang in his ears. All there was to do was to forget and move on. Just like always.

On his wrist, the broken memento of a watch grew heavier.

Joel's ears pricked as the sound of approaching footfalls out in the hallway grew louder. It was about fucking time they got here. And if it wasn't them, well, that's what the sawed-off was for. He levelled the weapon as he turned and paced towards the door.

Seven full seconds passed before a knock came at the door. Three knocks, a pause, then two more.

"'Darkness has fallen,'" he recited the bullshit Firefly code to ask for a password.

"'And the light has come to fill it,'" replied woman's voice that sounded equally irritated to be using such theatrical phrases. Gun still raised, Joel took a single step forward and unlatched the door's lock, letting it slip open with a creak.

A slender black woman with a gun of her own stepped inside, followed closely by two shorter figures. All three were draped in military rain slickers, still soaked and shiny from the rain.

"Joel Miller? Texas?" the woman queried. Joel grunted, nodding. No one ever really used his last name anymore. He'd all but forgotten it.

"Clementine?" he asked back. She nodded. Through his line of work, Joel had of course heard of the somewhat illusive woman. She wasn't a smuggler really, but she did run in certain circles tied to the black market. An ex-firefly, always on the move from QZ to QZ.

"That's me." Lowering her hood, Clementine revealed short frizzy hair concealed beneath an old ball cap. In the light, her eyes glistened like freshly formed amber, her pupils insects ensnared in its grasp. Leaning forward, she examined the man with the gun. "Wow, you really are Tommy's brother. Got the same chin, you got better hair though."

Joel ignored her comments, instead glancing at the two silent girls.

"Why's there two of 'em?" he asked. The two exchanged nervous glances. "Deal with Marlene was one girl. Who's the other?" Was just like Marlene to pull shit like this. Entitled little bitch.

"Get those coats off girls," Clementine ordered. "We'll be heading out soon. May as well get dry while you can." She turned back to Joel. "Ellie, the shorter one, she's the cargo. Riley, she's with me. Her coming was part of my payment. Don't worry about her, she's not your responsibility."

"Damn right she ain't," Joel muttered.

He was a goddamned moron for taking this job. Tess' idea, of course. She'd picked most of the jobs. Guns were the payment, but he couldn't care less. All he wanted was to get out, and this was the easiest way to do it. Now all he had to do was avoid even looking at these girls. Every glance sent a pinprick shooting through his chest, and added more and more weight to his broken watch.

"I'm not that short," grumbled the girl apparently named Ellie, the cargo. Her hair was somewhere between auburn and brown, her face flushed and dotted sparsely with light freckles.

"Sure you are," said the other girl, Riley, dark skin damp. One of her hands was missing too, so the end of her jacket sleep folded over slightly when it fell across her stump. Probably the result of a freak accident, or a bite. "You didn't even have to duck to get through that crawlspace."

"At least she didn't trip on a leaf," Clementine interjected with a smirk.

"HA!" Ellie barked in laughter, pointing. "So fuck you!"

They shared a quick laugh, though it subsided quickly. As if someone Joel's presence alone put them on edge. Smart kids, Joe thought distantly. Trust someone to quickly and you'll end up with a bullet in your shoulder and a shiv in your throat.

"So you're Joel?" Ellie said, stepping forward. "Ellie. Nice to meet you."

She offered her hand, which Joel ignored. Instead he holstered the sawed-off and stepped over to the doorway carved into the wall. The lift down to the buildings subterranean levels stood a few feet away, powered by a hand pulled generator.

"Dick," both girls said in unison.

"Where is it we're goin', exactly?" Joel asked Clementine, opting to ignore the teenaged bullshit. "Marlene didn't give too many details on this Firefly hideout, or on why the girl needs to be taken in the first place. She a big chees fly's daughter?"

"Eh, something like that. Kind of a long story," Clementine answered. "Destination's in Colorado, a university. I have a route in mind, but we should probably wait to talk about that when we get out of Boston. Army patrols switch in half an hour, so our window is closing."

"Right," Joel agreed. Smart woman, this Clementine. She was a lot scrawnier looking in terms of stature than he'd thought she'd be, a lot shorter, but there was an air of competence around her that most people just didn't have. Tess had had it until her luck ran out, Bill had it, and Joel supposed he had it too. Until aforementioned luck finally gave out. "Let's get going then."

The three females made their way to towards the door, which is when Joel noticed the pistols on each of the girl's hips, leather holsters worn and shit brown in color.

"Hold up," he stopped Clementine by shoulder. "You gave these two weapons?"

The question felt both entirely stupid and entirely honest on his lips. Logic said that these two should be armed. Everyone should be, really, especially considering where they were headed. Yet there was a part of him that couldn't help but picture a blonde haired, blue eyed angel awkwardly holding a revolver the size of her arm. Violence and that angel didn't mix. Never again.

"Of course I did," was Clementine's irritated reply. She glanced back at them. "Why wouldn't I? Tunnels are crawling with Infected. That's where the military funnels all of them with the flow of the pipes. They need guns. That a problem for you."

Joel said nothing, just grumbled an incomprehensible noise.

"We can help, man," said Riley. Her good hand fingered the gun's handle. "They taught us to shoot in school."

"That thing's gonna break your other hand off with the kickback," Joel shot back.

"No it won't," said Ellie. "It's a .33, a pea shooter."

"Look," Clementine said in resignation, putting her own hand on the gruff survivor's shoulder. "First time I picked up a gun was when I was nine. Killed my first man two days later. A gun is just a thing. It can't hurt anything unless you want it to. Now let's go."

With that, she paced to the generator and gave the string a mighty tug. Joel followed as the electricity whirred into life. No real point in arguing. The kids needed guns whether he wanted them to need them or not.

**LINEBREAK**

Ellie decided, as she slogged waist deep through the putrescent waters of the drainage pipe, that if swimming was anything like this, then she'd rather just not learn at all. Bits of old trash added more than you'd think to the already terrible smell of waster and dirty water. Her jeans would need a good wash after this, wet denim was a huge pain to move around in.

She'd need a good was too, for that matter. Not that she expected there be anything close to a shower once they finally got out of the zone.

Leaving the confines of the walls was something that filled her both with euphoric hope, and a niggling sense of uncertainty. All her life had been spent inside the zones, unknowingly being looked after by an unseen Marlene, pulling strings and keeping tabs. All she'd seen of the outside was on the cramped bus rides between different QZ's, which had slits for windows to protect against any possible raids.

Now she was going outside for real. And it was amazing.

Riley, who walked equally soaked just a pace away, obviously felt the same way. Her face said it all. The way her almond eyes widened as she took in the tunnel around them, from the moss covered walls dripping from both the rain that trickled from the sky and the water flowing through the pipes, to the iron grates that appeared now and then on the ceilings to indicate maintenance shafts. Her good hand was always moving in jittery excitement, and even her hook of a hand swayed from side to side.

She was a free spirit, Riley, hokey as that sounded. That was what had drawn her to the Fireflies, being free from the monotony of the military driven lifestyle. That spirit was part of the reason she loved her. Even with a missing hand, she could smash some heads in with ease. She proved that on the first day they'd met, beating the ever living crap out of the crew who'd decided to make her first day in Boston suck.

Their hands brushed together, fingers half entwining before breaking part. Both of them flushed red.

The worst part about finally getting out was that it meant that had basically no time alone. Clementine was awesome, and Joel was okay, she supposed, no more of an asshole than the head of their boarding school, but that didn't mean they wanted to put their relationship on display for either of them.

"So," she drawled, trying to lighten the mood with a bit of conversation. "You guys spend a lot of time in the sewer?"

"More than I'd like," responded Joel. "Smells like shit, but it's a good way to get around unseen."

"To smuggle things?"

"Yup."

Joel was a bit of an enigma for the moment. Not a terrible guy, he had a sporadic sense of humor here and there. Occasionally she heard him chuckle beneath his beard at her and Riley's banter.

Obviously he was good at his job. Every step he took was a careful calculation, a spur of the moment plan honed by years of survival.

He could be trusted, yet Clementine had made it clear that she shouldn't mention her bite. They would tell him later, and Clementine would do all the talking. As such, her mark had been wrapped firmly with concealing gauze.

"This is only my second or third time," was Clementine's answer. Her hair was sagging across her brow with the weight of the rain, marred with sweat and various sewer fluids. Black stains mixed with the ancient blood mark across the brow of her ballcap. "Most of my jobs take me over the rooftops. Abandoned buildings, sealed off alleyways. Useful for everything except getting in and out of QZ's."

"What kind of jobs you do?" asked Riley. Ellie smiled. Double teaming them would get the most information….or just annoy the living fuck out of them. Or one then the other. "Marlene didn't really say _what_ it was you did."

"Eh," Clementine hesitated. "Some smuggling. But I guess courier would be the better term for me. Run messages in and out of zones. Travel cross country. It's nice. When you're not on the run."

On the run.

Little comments like that did wonders to paint a picture of the outside world for a pair of girls who'd never really been beyond walls of steel.

"Running from what?"

Clementine laughed.

"I'll make ya a list, kid. "

"How'd you end up with this job, anyway?" Joel asked. The first time he'd asked any sort of question. Mostly he'd been silent apart from grunts chuckles and loud stares. "You're an ex-firefly, and Marlene hired ya anyway. You said you knew Tommy?"

"Along time ago, yeah." Amber eyes drifted down to the oily surface of the water. "He was a good guy. Always an optimist, even when everything went to hell. Left the Fly's not long after I did. Last I heard, he was out in Wyoming somewhere. You seen him recently?

"Nah," Joel said, dejectedly, eyes drifting downwards as well. "Not for years."

"Sorry to hear that. As for the job, well," she gestured towards the girls. "These two got themselves in a whole heap of trouble a few days back. Owed Marlene a favor, so she asked me to track 'em down. Found in the old shopping mall. You know, the one east of the towers? Found 'em, but Riley got bit. So I had to take her hand."

Joel whistled.

"Well holy shit," he breathed. "And you actually made it, girl. Not many people can say they survived that."

"I know," Riley admitted sheepishly. "Got lucky."

As she said this, they quartet was approaching a cross-section of sewer where the path diverted in two directions. Water flowed from left to right, and enormous amounts of moonlight poured in through a central, circular grate high above them. They didn't notice any of this though, as their attention was focused on the swashes of fungus that covered the walls.

Spine shattering hisses drowned at the dripping sounds of the water as a pair of clickers came shambling into view.

Ellie felt the air leave her lungs in an audible gasp, like she was being winded of a years worth of oxygen in a single burst. Crawling feels made their way up her body, bite itching with familiarity, as if a hot iron had grazed her skin ever so slightly. Last time, they'd been bitten. Last time, they could do nothing to stop it apart from run with futility.

Before she knew it, Joel had grabbed her by the arm, and shoved her against the nearest wall.

A finger came up to his lips. Shush, it said.

Riley had been similarly pinned to the opposite side of the tunnel, and the two of them watched as their elders went into action so fluidly, that the only apt comparison was a waterfall tumbling across the rocks.

Drawing a large bowie knife, Clementine flanked to the left while Joel went right. He weighed a brick in his palm, before sending it flying into the dead end tunnel straight ahead. The two Infected spun around on a dime, bearing their teeth and lunging after the noise.

All according to plan.

As one, the veterans took hold of their pray around the neck, and plunged sharpened blades into waiting sheathes of fungus and flesh.

"That was awesome," Riley said as the lifeless bodies were lowered into the stagnant water.

Ellie was on the verge of agreeing, but stopped dead when Clementine took four steps towards the left tunnel, and pulled from beneath the water a clear fresh corpse wrapped in military garb. A bullet hole shone read at his temple, bite wound only half fungal at his bicep. Positioning the body, she removed a jet black armband from the other arm.

A half obscured symbol was stitched there.

"Fuck," Clementine said. "We have to go. Now."

With no further explanation, she began moving left, gesturing them to follow.


	5. Chapter 5

Half an hour later the quartet stumbled out of the sewer exit, an enormous open pipe with broken grating that was rusted and covered in a shaggy layer of moss. The rain had died down to a petulant drizzle, and high above the clouds had started to drift away over the horizon as the first signs of the new day came creeping forward.

The two girls were momentarily awestruck by the steel and concrete jungle that now lay before them. Great skyscrapers dying where they stood dotted the seemingly endless landscape, rising out of the earth like monoliths left behind by some alien race long since dead and gone. Then again, that was the case in a way.

Only the rampant beating of their hearts brought on by panic could dampen the excitement of finally seeing the outside.

"You wanna explain what the hell that was?" Joel rounded on Clementine, who stood panting a few yards over, still clutching the bit of fabric she'd torn from the dead soldier's arm.

Clementine hesitated for a moment. The fabric was wrung over in her fingers, putrescent fluid dipping from it, symbol on the fabric distorted by the motion.

"Ever heard of a guy called Volgin?" she said after a long time. A rigid brow crawled up Joel's forehead.

"Should I have?"

"No, you're lucky that you haven't." she took another breath and ran a finger over the holster on her hip. Another hand fingered the bill of her cap. "He's a Colonel with the military. Has his own splinter unit. Couple hundred strong, works all over the QZ's. This is their symbol." She showed the group the fabric. Roughly sewn into it's fiber's was a golden bird, with wings draped in fiery crimson. "He and I….have a less than stellar history."

"….he's your enemy?" Riley asked. Clementine shrugged.

"Something like that. I stole something from him a year ago. Mind you, it wasn't his in the first place, but he's not the sharing type. So when I saw one of his boys dead down there, knew we had to get out. Chances are he's handed out my description to his men. Hunting people down is a specialty of the good Colonel."

Joel heaved a sigh, a scarred forearm rising to wipe the moisture from his face and to scratch at his beard. There was a tad of anger in his movement. Not homicidal rage or berserker fury, just a tepid acceptance for the bullshit of the world. Looking up, he gave Clementine something between a glare and a leer.

"This gonna be a problem?" he asked. "No part of my job description said nothing about the military. Just take the kid from point A to point B."

"Don't worry about it," Clementine assured. "There too spread out to get in our way. And even then they mostly stay in either the zones or their own bases. Won't be hard to avoid."

Joel stared, before shaking his head with a smirk.

"Shoulda figured there'd be baggage like this, dealin' with one of Marlene's. Current or otherwise. Well, fuck it. May as well move on. For now anyway."

Ellie could tell right off the bat that there was more that Clementine wasn't saying. She'd dealt with enough military school teachers to know when information was being carefully kept and given out at right moment. Joel obviously knew this too, he was a sharp guy, and his bearded face bore an expression of resigned acceptance. If he was going to yell or beat information out of her, he'd do it later.

Joel led them towards the remains of an enormous freeway exit. A towering ramp of concrete and steel ingots slanted upwards at forty-five degrees. Two dozen feet into the air, the ramp was splintered and broken, forming a makeshift overhang perfect to shield them from the rain. Concrete pillars that supported the ramp combined with the rusted out remains of at least four trucks made the place a mostly enclosed compound.

Not that it was comfortable or anything, but it would make for a decent camp.

"Alright," Joel said, unshouldering his pack and glancing back at the monolithic walls of the Quarantine Zone, a glacier of steel breaking apart the landscape. "We should be fine here for a few hours. They don't patrol out here as much."

"Thank god," Ellie breathed, dramatically letting herself fall to the ground atop her backpack, arms splayed. "Thought we'd never get out of that fucking sewer."

"Right there with ya," Riley agreed, lowering herself carefully down next to her friend, making sure not to dislodge her claw-hand.

"Don't get to comfy," Clementine said, bemused. "We can't stay long. For now, we can rest and plan our next move."

"You have a root in mind, now's the time to say so."

Joel lounged back against the wall, while Clementine took a seat cross legged to his right. Ambiance brought on by the rain was diminished somewhat by the fact that they were surrounded by trash and bits of rubble on all sides. Dirt streaked across the floor and creepy crawlies had long since found their home here. Comfortable wasn't really the word to describe the place, especially considering they were all soaked to the skin in grimy water.

"Well," Clementine pulled a half crumpled map from her bag and smoothed it on her knee. Both girls could see it despite their floored angles, but the twisting lines and miniscule marks on it's surface meant next to nothing to them. Cartography wasn't really taught as a basic class at school.

"The way I see it we have two possible routes. One, we could swing by Bill's, maybe ask him for help fixing a car. Doubt that last part though. Everything's rusted out. But then again I'd rather not get may face blown off by one of his traps. Bill doesn't care for me much, anyway. Mostly because I take all the best salvage that isn't tucked away somewhere in that town of his."

"I don't feel much like seein' Bill either," Joel agreed. All it would serve to do was get cursed at and have questions about Tess asked he didn't want to hear. "What's your alternative."

"There's this couple about twenty miles further west than Bill," she traced a slender finger over the map, indicating a yellow circle amidst some roughly illustrated hills. "They have a cabin there. Figured we'd make our first stop there, and continue on after that."

Joel considered it for a moment.

"Never really been further west than the outskirts. This couple trustworthy?"

"Dangerously so," said Clementine. "If they'd ever ran with the Flies, Marlene probably would've sent them on this job instead of us. They're a bit more agreeable than I am. Less likely to turn around and shoot Marlene."

"Speakin' of which?" Joel readjusted himself on the ground to glance at the younger pair. "What the Firefly's want with you, anyway? Last I checked they were too busy dying off to be looking after any kids."

Ellie say up, feet shuffling uncomfortably. Clementine had ordered her not mention her bite, that she would tell Joel when the time come. Yet hiding it beneath a thin layer of bandage made her frighteningly nervous.

"It's kind of a long story. Marlene knew my mom, even before the Outbreak, I think. They worked together for a long time, then, when mom died, Marlene made sure I was looked after. Didn't actually meet her in person until about a year ago."

"Ah, so it's personal," Joel concluded with a satisfied nod. "Fair enough. Guess even Firefly's have personal lives."

"No they don't," Clementine interjected. By now she'd slumped back against a pillar, feet up on her pack and ballcap lowered over her eyes. "This is a debt to a friend. Any 'personal time' I had as a Fly usually involved either recruiting new people or getting casually shot at. Not fun."

Joel turned to Riley.

"What you about you, then? You were itching to join Marlene's little party?"

A lip twitched on Riley's face. Her claw hand moved from one knee to the other.

"Not so much anymore. I guess I'm technically a Firefly," she pulled her dogtags out of her pocket and fiddled with them. "But I don't really care that much anymore. Wouldn't be worth it." Her eyes flickered to Ellie for a moment, which both adults took silent note of.

"You grow up in school too?" Clementine asked. Her eyes were still closed to rest, but she sounded interested.

"Nah. Had a place with my mom and dad until dad got infected. Killed mom, had… had to put him down." Her tone was mostly casual. After all, it was a situation all to common.

"That sounds familiar," Clementine whispered, barely audible. "Sorry, kid."

"It's alright," Riley replied. "What about you guys then? You're from Texas, right Joel?"

"Yup," he said rather curtly. "Made my way east after the outbreak. Been smugglin' ever since." His words were blunt, straightforward, and made it clear that the conversation was essentially over.

"That's a loaded question," Clementine leaned forward. "Short version, born and raised in Georgia. Been wandering around the country since the Outbreak hit when I was eight. I'd tell you more, but we don't have that kind of time." She drew her pistol and started examining it for scrapes and maintenance issues. "How about you two get changed? Those clothes need to dry out. Did your spares hold out okay?"

"Think so," Ellie rolled over and peeked inside her pack. The sealed plastic bags with an extra shirt and pair of jeans had remained uncompromised throughout the sewer trek. "Yep, we're good. Thank god," she pulled at the denim clinging to her thigh. "This shit feels like crap."

"Great. Then you two change. We'll stand guard here for a bit. Should be a good spot back there." She pointed to a cluster of pillars ten yards or so away.

"Cool, thanks Clementine," Riley said. The two girls gathered their things and stepped over fallen litter and rubble to the confines of the sight reduced area enclosed by concrete. A solid thirty seconds passed, when they'd passed out of earshot, Joel spoke.

"So," he sounded curious though not invested. "Are they….?"

Clementine shrugged, smiling.

"Probably. Not gonna ask any time soon though. Lord knows I don't want to give a sex talk any time in the near future."

**Sorry this took so long guys. Next one will come sooner, and more will happen I promise. Just wanted to get something out there. Having trouble balancing a quartet dynamic. Need to work on that. **


End file.
